Life or Death
by sherlockedbyben
Summary: Doctor Who and American Horror Story crossover. With the Tardis in the custody of Torchwood due to dangerous unknown energy, the Doctor and Clara find themselves staying in the Murder House where they soon realise that they are dealing with something they have never experienced before.
1. Chapter 1

**Heey guys, I recently started watching American Horror Story and I loveeee Season one, Murder House! Inspiration struck me for a crossover between ahs and Doctor Who sooo here I am=)) There's just so much potential omg and I think it'd be really interesting to see the different characters interact with each other. Said I'd give it a go anyway, this fanfic will have a pairing between Clara Oswald and Charles Montgomery, odd pairing I know but I want to try make it work :) Charles may be a bit of a psycho but he's a really interesting character and Clara is really kind at heart so I thought they might go together, even if it's just friendship or more :) **

**Not sure if I'm even posting this in the right place but whatever, it's not harming anyone. Soo hope you enjoy this guyss, review to let me know what you think!**

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"You _what?!_"

Clara bit back her grin at the Doctor's sudden slightly comical outburst, his former good mood being darkened sharply at the news they had just recieved. Their landing had not been one of the best, Clara had to admit. Her arms were definitely bruised from breaking her fall, she deduced as she rubbed them absent mindedly. She took another quick glance around the darkened room they were in. Everything looked futuristic and efficient, although it had a gloomly feel about it, giving the impression that they were underground. There was a handful of suited people present in the room but the Doctor was only talking to one, waiting almost angrily for an explanation. He drew himself up to his full height, his lanky frame towering above Clara as he attempted to make himself seem taller than the American rogue in front of him. He straightened his bowtie somewhat menacingly, raising his almost non-existant eyebrows at Captain Jack Hartness challengingly.

"What do you mean my Tardis is _'screwed'_?"

"I mean what I said, Doc, and I said what I mean," Jack answered casually, though a somewhat guilty look flitted over his features momentarily as he delivered the news. "Serious things are happening here and your Tardis has something to do with it. Looks like we caught you just in time. We had to bring you here on short notice, sorry if it was a bit of a bumpy ride." He winked and reached over to pat the wooden of the Tardis affectionately.

"Oi! Hands off!" The Doctor scowled. Clara moved from her friend's side to approach the captain. She leaned against the ship.

"What's wrong with the Tardis?" She questioned, as eager to know the answer as the Doctor was. It had been fine only moments before when they were on their way to 19th century England to visit Charles Dicken's, something Clara had especially been looking forward to. She frowned slightly. She had been begging the Doctor to take her to see her favourite author for ages and now that chance had been taken away. She gave Jack a challenging glare. "Explain, Cap."

"Yes m'am," Jack waggled his eyebrows in a mockingly flirtatious gesture, causing Clara to roll her eyes. "The Tardis has been giving off an imense amount of negative energy that we picked up on in Torchwood. Dangerous energy," His joking gaze turned serious and Clara felt the Doctor stiffen next to her in concern. She had never liked the Tardis that much, they shared a mutual hate for each other, but she didn't want to see the Doctor's beloved ship in trouble. Jack continued in a more stern tone. "We can't exactly identify the energy yet, which is pretty infuriating. But it's similar to that of the force behind a fissure in time, if the Tardis contains this energy it won't only rip the ship apart," Clara glanced up at the Doctor in concern as he flinched slightly. "But it also had the potential to destroy an entire planet."

The Doctor's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "But.. How? We didn't detect anything!"

"I don't know, Doc," Jack stated gravely. "This is energy similar to something we found here in this location, which is why we set up another Torchwood base, so we could check it out. It's concerning, this could mean major changes for the planet, if not, the universe. It's nothing like we've ever seen before. Might be something you'd want to help us look into since your Tardis is picking up the same thing, we're pretty stumped." He grimaced slightly. "But until we figure out what's going on," He gestured to two others present in the room and they promptly began to load the Tardis onto a metal contraption. "The Tardis stays in the custody of Torchwood."

"Awh, Jack!" The Doctor whined, reminding Clara of some of the stubborn children she used to teach. "No, let me take a look at it."

"Hey, too dangerous, Doctor," Jack held his hands up in surrender. "Just doing my job."

Clara put a hand on the Doctor's arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, Chinboy," She grinned, poking him lightly in an attempt to cheer him up. "The Tardis will be fine. How long did you say you have to keep it?" She addressed Jack, who was now typing vigourously on what looked to be a futuristic iPad.

"Um, well," Jack scratched the back off his head somewhat sheepishly. "This is a serious thing we've got going on here, Doc... Could be days, weeks... Months, you know, that kind of thi-"

"Months?" The Doctor cried, jerking away from Clara's grasp in outrage, brandishing his sonic screwdriver in Jack's face. "What am I supposed to do, stuck in the same place for months!"

"Hey, it might not come to that," Jack tried to reassure him. "But it's been a long time, Doc, a catch up would be grea-"

"Jack," The Doctor warned.

"Alright, alright," Jack relented, throwing his hands up in surrender again. "You can come round and take a look at the ship every now and then, see if you know anything we don't," He gave the Doctor a warning glare as the Time Lord opened his mouth to retaliate with a confident remark. "But we've got a serious operation going on here, there's been alien party's going on all over this joint recently, nothing major but this.. _This_ is a real problem. I hate to say it, but we might actually need your Time Lord expertise."

The Doctor huffed and began pacing. Clara piped up, deciding to ask a question that was just beginning to concern her slightly.

"So.. We're still in England, yeah?" She questioned. "Are we anywhere near where I live? Because I'm going to need somewhere to stay that's nearby.." She trailed off quietly as Jack looked at her in disbelief and gave a loud guffaw. "What?" She asked adamantly, folding her arms, hating feeling so confused. All this mention of Torchwood and negative energy was confusing enough as it was.

"England?" Jack choked out, finally regaining his composure. "Honey, you're a long way from England." He smirked, walking towards a set of sleek, steel sliding doors at the top of a short staircase, gesturing for Clara to follow him with a wink. She sighed but did so not unwillingly, joining Jack at the top of the stairs and proceeding through the double doors.

"But don't worry," Jack continued lightly. "I think you'll like this place a lot better."

They stepped out onto a large balcony, the sun hitting them instantly, causing Clara to sheild her eyes as they adjusted from the dark below. She slowly took her hand away from her eyes and quinted at her surroundings. She let out a quiet gasp, rushing to the edge of the balcony and looking down. A huge, rolling city was sprawled below, she could see the hustle of people even from way up here. The place was huge, she could see a large, white sandy beach in the distance and the sparkling blue water looked more than inviting. She whipped around to face Jack, a grin beginning to spread on her face.

"Are we..?" She trailed off excitedly, waiting for confrimation.

Jack spread his arms wide enthusiastically. "We're in LA baby!"

"Wow!" Clara exclaimed. This city had been on top of her bucket list of places she wanted to visit before she met the Doctor and realised she could go anywhere in time and space. "Doctor, we're in Los Angeles!"

"I can show her all of time and space and she gets excited about _America_," The Doctor grumbled, joining them on the balcony.

Clara ignored his jibes and sighed happily. She wasn't really one for the sun and the hustle and bustle of cities, a good book and a comforting cup of tea beside the cosy fire during winter were more her kind of thing, but she had always loved travelling and seeing different cultures. It was one of the main reasons she had decided to travel with the Doctor.

"We're gunna be here for a while right?" She flashed Jack another excited smile. "So where are we staying?"

"Well, you can't stay here in Torchwood HQ I'm afraid," He gave her an apologetic smile. "But there's plenty of apartments nearby."

Clara's heart sank. They were in LA and they were going to be staying in an apartment? She might as well have just stayed at home in her own one. Jack noticed her expression and continued hurridly.

"There's some houses around here going pretty cheap though, if apartments arent really your thing. They're more outside the city but not too far away..."

"Sounds great!" Clara chirped, ignoring the slightly aggitated expression on the Doctor's face. She knew he'd hate staying stuck in one place, but she wanted to make the most of it. "Come on, the sooner we get it sorted the better."

She grinned enthusiastically and grabbed the Doctor's hand, pulling him back down the stairs with her. Jack rushed on ahead of them and hopped into a sleek shiny car, motioning for them to join him. "Let's get this party started!" He whistled, causing Clara to chuckle.

She moved into the back seat, shifting over to make room for the Doctor who had to squeeze in beside her as the passenger seat was already occupied. A large metal door resembling the door to a garage opened for them to exit through. Jack threw a quick glance over his head as he set the car in motion.

"One of our top agents will be coming with us. It's probably best if she stays with you two for the time being, keep you out of trouble," He gave a cheeky grin. "You may know her very well, Doctor."

Clara craned her neck to see as the girl in the front turned around to look at the Doctor momentarily. She flashed a grin. "Hello again, Doctor. New face, not too shabby."

"Martha!" The Doctor cried enthusiastically. The girl smiled even wider, revealing pearly white teeth, a contrast to her dark skin. Clara wondered briefly what the relationship between them had been. She looked towwards her friend questioningly.

"Martha was a former companion," The Doctor explained cheerily. "Clara, Martha, Martha, Clara."

Martha flashed Clara a quick smile before engaging the Doctor in conversation. Two mintures into the technical Torchwood talk and Clara was lost. She decided to leave them to it and gazed out the window at the view outside, the sun beating down on her, trying not to feel too out of the loop. She wished she'd brought more appropriate clothing, she had been expecting cold, wet England, not sunny LA.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Martha coming to live with them. She had hoped it would just be her and the Doctor, maybe the occasional visit from Jack, and of course they'd be visiting Torchwood often. She didn't know Martha and wasn't sure if she would warm to her straight away. Even though she'd rather be in the Tardis travelling, she was excited about finding this house and living there for a while. She was certain the Doctor wouldn't take too kindly to staying there, but it was necessary. She tried not to worry too much about the dangerous "energy" they kept mentioning.

"We don't want you guys to be situated too far away from us so we're kind of limited to a few cheap houses nearby," Jack explained as he drove slowly past a housing estate. "We want to get this sorted quickly enough so I'm gunna show you a few options as we drive and you're going to have to pick one so try not to be too fussy, alright? It's only temporary... Anything take your fancy?"

Clara wrinkled her nose at the sight of the small, grey, bunched together buildings. She didn't want to be fussy but the cheap looking houses just weren't doing it for her. "Not sure about this," She muttered.

"I agree," The Doctor stated. "Dreadful. Carry on, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes and continued driving. It only took them a mere five minutes to reach the apartment block he was eyeing up. Before he could even open his mouth, the Doctor let out a loud scoff.

"Jack, I thought you knew me. A Time Lord living in one of these boxes? Are you mad?"

"Alright, alright!" He grumbled, continuing driving with a huff, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like, _"Thought boxes were your thing," _under his breath, causing Clara to chuckle amd Martha to slap his arm mockingly. Each attempt to find a temporary residence for the fussy Time Lord and his companion ended similarly, and even Clara was beginning to scold the Doctor for being rude, though she hadn't exactly taken a fancy to any of the options either. She was sure that if Jack heard one more, _"You expect me to stay __**here**__? I'm never talking to you again," _He would explode.

"Look, Your Highness, there's only one other place I know that's for sale right now, so we're going to look at it and if you don't like it I'm sending you out to live on the streets," He almost growled. "You're lucky, the price is way below market and there's an open day ending in around half an hour, if I'm right. Which I usually am."

"Are you talking about the Murder House?" Martha questioned, raising her eybrow at Jack. "They nearly always have an open day, they're so desperate to sell it. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Hey, it's cheap and-"

"Murder House?" Clara piped up, entrigued.

"Oh, rumours, rumours," Jack quipped lightly. "You're not scared of ghosts, are you?" Clara saw him wink jokingly in the review mirror. She laughed.

"Ghosts," The Doctor scoffed. "What people think are ghosts are usually aliens." His expression suddenly turned excited. "You know, I think we should take a look at this "Murder House". Step on it, Jack!"

The Time Lord turned towards Clara excitedly as Jack accelerated and they began to move outside the busy city. "Maybe staying in one place for a while won't be so bad after all," He grinned, a mischievius look flitting across his features.

Clara grinned, glad he was making light of the situation. "So you think these ghosts rumours are actually extra terrestrial?"

"I'm almost sure of it," He grinned. "Ghosts," He scoffed again, rolling his eyes and twiddling his sonic screwdriver between his long fingers.

A low wolf whistle from Jack made Clara snap her head up to look out of the widnow. "Now she definitely has to be worth more than the selling price!"

Clara felt her mouth slide open in awe and quickly shut it again, not wanting to seem too unprofessional in front of Martha and Jack. She couldn't help but let out a gasp as she took in the beauty of the house though. It was huge and old fashioned, it must have been around for years. It was beautiful and intriguing and Clara had the door open almost before they'd stopped.

"Now _this_ is more like it," She sent Jack a grin over her shoulder before turning back to the grand house in front of her. "Come on, Doctor!" She grabbed her friend's hand and dragged him to the front door, opening it and entering the building. Footsteps approaching nearby alerted them of someone's presence. A short haired woman came into view almost immediately, a bundle of papers in her arms and an almost startled expression on her face at their sudden entry. Her eyes lit up as she saw them.

"Ah, I was just about to close up for the day," She began, a hopeful smile beginning to spread over her features. "I thought no one else was coming... You are here to view the house, yes?"

"Yes, we're _very_ interested." Clara interrupted the Doctor with a warm smile before he could speak. She didn't want him saying anything unneccessary. The woman looked as if she was going to jump up and down on the spot with excitement. Clara and the Doctor exchanged a glance. She was clearly desperate to sell the place.

"Excellent!" The woman cried. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Marcy, here let me show you around, take your time, take your time!"

"Clara," Clara smiled, walking ahead of Marcy and leaving the others to introduce themselves. She bit back a laugh at the confused expression on Marcy's face when the Doctor gave his title.

"Ah yes, we've had our fair share of doctor's living in this place," She nodded vigorously, accepting that the man was a bit eccentric. "The last family, God rest their souls, were lovely. Doctor Harmon was a psychiatrist. And then the first owner of the house, Dr. Montgomery-"

"What happened to them?" Martha asked almost fearfully. Clara gave her a quick glance. She wasn't showing any fear but she seemed to feel uncomfortable. Clara wasn't sure why, the house was beautiful. It was old fashioned yet it had obviously been modernised as the years went on, and Clara loved the sense of mystery about it. She gave the chandeliers an admiring glance.

"Oh well I am required to tell you about... What happened to them," Marcy's smile became fixed and Clara felt her curiousity spike.

"They died here?" She asked.

"Yes, all of them actually, the whole family. Mrs Harmon died in childbirth and Dr Harmon in his grief, hung himself from that stairwell."

Clara felt her heart twist uncomfortably as she followed Marcy's gaze to the staircase.

"They still haven't found the body of the daughter," Marcy continued solemly. "They were a lovely family, really lovely... But don't let that put you off," The fixed smile was back. "It's a beautiful house and the asking price is just too good to pass by."

Clara slapped the Doctor's hand as he reached for his sonic screwdriver. She knew he was itching to scan the house for alien presence. Now, she decided, was not the time.

"We'll take it!" The Time Lord exclaimed joyously. Clara felt good about the decision. She liked this house, there was something about it. She knew the history wasn't exactly the most cheerful, but she wasn't put off. She didn't believe in ghosts. As the Doctor had said, it was nearly always something to do with extra terrestrials.

"We'll even pay up front," The Doctor continued, smiling brightly. "Go on then, Jack, good lad."

Jack shot the Doctor a glare and huffed, reaching into his pocket and taking out a card. "I don't have any cash on me, this is all I have. I'll write you a cheque, that ok?"

Clara left their company as they sorted out financial arrangments and wandered around the house again. She now understood why Marcy was so desperate to sell it, she realised with a shudder. Most people wouldn't be exactly happy about residing in a house where people had died tragically. This explained why the asking price was so low. She wasn't fearful about staying in this house though, she felt safe wherever the Doctor was. It wasn't as if they'd had much choice anyway. She trailed a hand slowly over the Tiffany windows, feeling awestruck. She was going to love exploring this house once they moved in properly.

"Careful. You wouldn't want to scratch the glass. Those windows have been here for a _very_ long time."

Clara jumped and spun around to greet the unfamiliar voice. She was met with the sight of a teenage boy with a mop of blond curls and dark brown eyes standing a few feet away.

"Oh, hello," She greeted him with a smile. "Are you here to look at the house too? We just bought it." She smiled apologetically.

"No, I'm not interested in buying this piece of crap." The boy scowled.

"Oi!" Clara crossed her arms with an indignant glare, feeling the need to defend the house. "This place is beautiful, show some respect."

The boy rolled his eyes. "I live... Next door," He muttered.

"So what are you doing here?" Clara questioned challenginly.

The boy paused thoughtfully. "Just wanted to see the place again, I guess. I used to come over here a lot," A small smirk spread across his face. "Dr. Harmon was my pyschiatrist."

Clara nodded slowly. She was disconcerted about why the boy was here, but she let it go. "Well, I suppose we'll be neighbours then." She smiled cheerily. "I'm Clara. Clara Oswald."

"Tate," The boy replied. "That man out there," He gestured towards the hall with his thumb. "What he doing with that stick that lights up?" His expression darkened. "I saw him scanning things in the house. Who is he?"

Claea felt her stomach tighten unpleasnantly. Tate had seen the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. _This_ would be hard to explain.

"That's my friend, the Doctor," She replied. "He.. Um.. He's a-"

"Doctor?" Tate's eyes widened slightly. "Like a shrink?"

"Not exactly," Clara considered, glad the sonic screwdriver fiasco had been averted for now and wondering why Tate was suddenly looking so hopeful. "He-"

"Clara!"

Clara turned around at the sound of the Time Lord's voice. "I'm in here, Doctor!"

She turned back to Tate. "He's going to be living here too if you-"

She stopped suddenly. Tate was gone. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and glanced around the room, running to the nearest door and peeking out. He was nowhere. Where had he disappeared to so fast?

"What are you looking for, Ozzy?" The Doctor came bounding into the room, brandishing his sonic crewdriver, followed closely be a startled and confused Marcy.

"I.. Nothing," Clara muttered, deciding she would broach the subject of the missing boy later. "This place ours then?"

"Yes it is," The Doctor grinned.

Clara smiled at the Doctor's optimistic mood. This house was full of mystery and she wanted to know all about it.

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Charles rarely left the basement. Ever since he had died, he had found comfort down there. He was alone but that didn't bother him. He didn't talk to the other ghosts much, although he felt obliged to occasionally. He preferred the basement to the rest of the house. Even when he was alive, he would come down here to avoid the predicaments in his life, and to avoid Nora. He hissed lowly as he hunched over the form of a deceased rat that had had the misfortune to find its way down here. Nora. He wished he had never married her. His life would be so different. He would be famous, there would be articles written about him in the Boston Medical journal. He wouldn't have become such a _failure._

He mused over how his love for her had slowly but surely turned to hate, until he despised her so much that he doubted if he had ever even loved her. Then the despair set in, intensified every time she called him a disgrace and a waste of space and the drugs were the only thing that could make his self loathing lessen for a while.

He hadn't talked to her since he had died. He barely talked to her even when they were alive. He wanted nothing to do with her, he wanted nothing to do with anyone anymore. He felt like staying down in the basement, away from everyone, as if being engulfed in loneliness was his self punishment for all the wrongs he had done.

He didn't even bother leaving the house at Halloween, the only time the dead were allowed to leave the God forsaken prison of a house. He just didn't care anymore. He inhaled more ether, angry at himself as he always was. The only thing he had ever really accomplished that had lasted was building this house. This house was cursed, but he had designed and built it and it was the only thing he could allow himself to be proud of. This house was the only thing he would protect, because he had nothing else.

Footsteps echoed in the lonely basment as someone decended down the stairs. Charles felt his temper threaten to flare, intensified by the effects of the ether he had just inhaled that were starting to sink in. He ignored the arrival and continued with his experiment.

"Dr. Montgomery?"

Charles didn't respond to the voice of the troubled teenage boy that addressed him.

"Dr. Montgo-"

"I'm working!" Charles hissed angrily, his eyes leaving his work to glare at Tate.

"Well I think you might want to listen to what I have to say," Tate responded, keeping his voice even.

Charles scoffed, allowing an amused smile to cross his face. "Why would I be concerned with anything you have to say?"

"It's about the house," Tate urged, finally arresting Charles' attention and causing him to look up. "I think it's in danger."

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**Chapter one, donee :) Hope you liked it, review to let me know if you think I should continue!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Not sure if I'll continue this story or not, depends if people like it, but I'll keep going for a while anyway :) Review to let me know what you think, it'd mean a lot to me!**

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It didn't take them long to get settled. Clara was especially enthusiastic. Once Jack had dropped off their small number of belongings, Clara went to choose her room. She insisted on having first choice, although the Doctor didn't seem too fussed about where he slept. He was either worrying about his Tardis or scanning the house with his sonic screwdriver.

Clara gazed around the room she had chosen to be her own for the next few months or so. She liked it, it wasn't too big, wasn't too small, and there was plenty of room for her large quantity of books, the main thing she had requested Jack retrieve from the Tardis before they began to run tests on the ship. She skipped down the stair case, curious as to what the Doctor was up to.

"Doctor?" She called. She caught sight of him pacing the hall, scanning the wood panelling with a frustrated look on his face.

"What's wrong?" She questioned, eyeing the screwdriver. The Doctor huffed and pocketed the device reluctantly.

"I don't know, that's the problem," He muttered, running a hand through his hair in aggitation. "I'm not picking up anything! Nothing, not one thing! I just don't get it, Clara!" He grumbled as they exited the old house to stroll around the grounds outside. "I was so sure I'd find something here, I thought this place was _promising._"

"Guys!"

Clara looked up at the sound of the familiar voice to see Jack bounding towards them, full of energy as always, momentarily forgetting about the Doctor's plight.

"Heya," She greeted him with a smile. "We were just taking a look around the grounds."

"I came to see how you guys were getting on with the move in," Jack grinned happily. He jerked his thumb towards the Doctor who was examining a gazebo in the middle of the garden and scanning it in annoyance. "What's up with him?"

"He's just in a mood because he can't find anything wrong with the place," Clara sighed. "Come on, I want to take a look around. Where's Martha?"

"Inside probably, I don- Well _hello!"_

Clara followed Jack's sudden interested gaze in curiousity. She was met with the sight of an elderly lady with short red hair walking across the garden at a tentative place and approaching them slowly. She had a kind smile and as she came closer Clara noticed that she was blind in one eye. She was slightly disconcerted as to why this lady was freely roaming her garden but she offered a friendly smile nonetheless.

"Hello," She began. "Um.. Who are you?"

"Sorry, we haven't formally met," The woman held out a hand for Clara to shake which she took politely. "My name is Moira, I'm the maid."

"Clara," The girl responded. She was puzzled. She gave the Doctor a look and motioned for him to come over. "I didn't know this place came with a maid."

"Oh, I've worked here for years," Moira explained. "The families come and go, I stay. You'll need me, trust me."

"So you're a maid, huh?" Jack gave Moira an appreciative glance. "I might be visiting here a bit more often." He gave the elderly woman a sly wink.

Clara looked at Jack in disbelief. What was he doing?

"Jack," She hissed. She hoped Moira wasn't put off by his behaviour. Clara considered it rude. Jack looked at her, showing no sign of knowing what he was doing wrong.

"It was nice to meet you, Moira," Clara smiled kindly.

Jack let out a low whistle. "Yes, it was."

Clara gave him a glare. The Doctor had now joined them and was looking amused.

"Jack, this is too far, even for you," Clara hissed quitely, hoping she was out of hearing range of the elderly maid.

"What are you talking about?" Jack whispered back, dumbfounded. "She's hot!"

Clara mouth dropped open. The Doctor gave a loud guffaw. "Well _this_ is interesting," He grinned. He turned to Moira.

"Hello, Moira, I'm the Doctor. Do you mind if I scan you?"

He promptly took out his sonic screwdriver and waved it in front of a slightly startled looking Moira, who backed away in concern as the device buzzed.

"I'm afraid, Doctor, that's not in the job description," She stated coldly, looking at the screwdriver worriedly. "I'll be in the house." She turned and hurried away from their presence.

"Doctor!" Clara yelled as soon as Moira was out of earshot. She slapped him on the arm scoldingly. "You can't just ask people if you can scan them! That poor old lady!"

"Old lady?" Jack asked, startled.

"This is strange, very strange," The Doctor mumbled, beginning to pace again. "I scanned her but nothing is amiss. But there _has _to be." He pointed his sonic screwdriver at Jack. "Maybe it's you."

"Hey!" Jack backed away as the Doctor attempted to scan him. "There's nothing wrong with me!"

"You were clearly seeing her differently to myself and Clara," The Doctor stated lightly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, either that or your taste in women has deteriorated greatly. No, something is not right and I'm going to find out what."

Clara raised her eyebrows at a confused Jack and followed a more enthusiastic Doctor back into the house. She quickened her pace to keep up with his swift strides.

"You know," She mused. "I don't understand why you need to find something wrong with this place. It's fine the way it is. I know you miss your Tardis but just being inside this house is like stepping back in time."

The Doctor mumbled something to himself and sighed. "There is _something. _I know it, I can feel it. I just can't see it."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Wishful thinking, Doc. I'm going to take a look around the house."

She set off, leaving the Doctor in the hall. She hadn't had the chance to scour the place properly yet and was enjoying making her through the different rooms in the large old house. She almost didn't know where to begin. She passed through the modernised kitchen, making her way through yet another hall. A lone door caught her eye. It looked older than the rest of the house, which had been done up in recent years. She approached it slowly and took the handle, curiousity getting the better of her.

It opened with a low creak and Clara was met with the sight of a dark staircase leading down. She felt excitment course through her. This was the basement. She made her way down the steps slowly, cringing when they groaned under her weight, giving the impression that they were rarely used. She felt around for a light switch, relief flooding through her as her hand made contact with it and a dim glow illuminated the room.

She reached the last step and paused as she took in her surroundings, a shiver running through her. She felt cold and had to fight to suppress the nagging feeling that she shouldn't be down here alone. The room looked and felt decrepit and she paced around. There wasn't much to see, a few chairs tossed here and there and some musty boxes, not occupying much space. She jumped as the lights began to flicker slightly. She wanted to get out of here before the lights went out and she was engulfed in darkness. She shuddered at the prospect of being left here alone in the dark as the lights flickered again.

She made to turn around but froze in her tracks at the sound of something scraping in a corner of the room. Her heart began to thud in her chest. Just a rat, she decided. She turned almost fearfully to face the source of the noise. Her breath caught in her throat as she was met with a hideous creature like she had never seen before. It was inhuman, it had yellow fangs instead of teeth and it's eyes were dark and horrifying. Small tufts of hair poked out of it's greying head unevenly and grubby hands ending in claws protruded from it's rotting clothing. Clara screamed in horror and tried to back away but her muscles locked. She was alone down here and she had never felt so scared in her life.

The beast rushed towards her and she tried to scream, to call out for help but her voice faltered, fear wrapping around her vocal cords and contricting them until the only sound she could make was a low rasp. She was so scared she couldn't even emit a noise. She tumbled to the floor and tried to crawl to her feet, finding her voice again as the creatures claws threatened to reach her and she let out another piercing scream. She stuggled to regain her balance, unable to take her eyes off the monster.

She attempted to back away again as it came closer to her but tripped over her own feet in her fear. Before she could hit the ground, strong arms circled her waist, saving her from connecting with the cold hard floor. She gave a surprised sob, shaking with terror.

"Thaddeus, stop!" An unfamiliar male voice hissed at the creature. "Go!"

To Clara's immense surprise, the monster ceased in its tracks and retreated, disappearing into the shadows.

"Doctor?" She choked out, fear seeping into her. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know where her friend was. He should be here, protecting her.

"No," The voice stated bluntly, his arms releasing her as she stood on her own two feet again.

Clara turned around to face her savior, a million questions on her mind that she needed to ask. She was met with an empty room. Fear and confusion threatened to strangle her senses again. She knew she had to run from the basement but she couldn't find the strength. A man had been with her just seconds ago, where was he now?

"Where-" Clara felt herself beginning to sink to the ground as tears started to prick her eyes. She had never felt so scared. Her breath began to come in gasps and she couldn't breath. She shuddered, panic beginning to set in as she struggle to breathe but couldn't.

"For God's sake!" The voice was back and Clara registered relief at the sound, even through her struggle to breathe. "Don't you dare have a panic attack. You're causing me enough trouble as it is."

Two hands gripped her shoulders and Clara looked up through bleary eyes to make out the form of a man, though the light was too dim to make out his face. He seemed to be wearing a white lab coat, but Clara couldn't be sure. She wasn't sure of anything right now.

"Breathe." The man instructed and Clara tried to do as she was told, her breathing becoming more even. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, shaking her head as if to shake away the insanity that she was feeling.

"Go."

She opened her eyes at his instruction, ready to say something, anything, but the man was gone. She gasped, feeling alone. She scrambled to her feet, looking around the room hurriedly. It was hard to see, but she knew that she was alone, there was no one else here. She stumbled over to the stairs, tears pooling in her eyes and running down her cheeks, terror and confusion overtaking her. She began to climb the steps with difficulty, the fear making her muscles work slower than usual. Light appeared up not far above her and she squinted up at the door which was being flung open by the Doctor.

"Clara!" He yelled, concern lacing his tone as he rushed to her and put his arms around her. "Are you alright?"

Clara gasped again. "Doctor, there was something..." She trailed off and began to climb the rest of the steps, wanting to get as far away from the basement as possible. She wiped away her tears furiously, suddenly feeling self concious and leaned on the wall for support.

"Clara, what happened?" She heard Martha's voice urge her. So Martha was here too.

Clara blinked and took a shuddering breath as the Doctor and Martha fixed their piercing gazes on her.

"There was something down there," She choked out. "It tried to attack me, I..." She trailed off, holding a hand to her head in confusion. She shuddered. What had just happened? Who was the man who had saved her from that... Thing? What the bloody hell was a random man doing down in her basement anyway?

She had seen a lot of strange things, but all of them were sorted with some sort of explanation. She had nothing to explain this. She was beginning to feel stupid, her fear ebbing away in the comforting light of day and being replaced with shame.

"Don't worry, Clara, we'll sort this," The Doctor stated grimly, beginning to descend the staircase to the basement.

"No, Doctor, you can't go down there!" Clara cried. She turned to Martha for assistance. "Martha, that thing down there... It's nothing like I've ever seen before. I've never been so terrified, in all the things I've seen travelling with the Doctor. He can't go down there!"

Martha nodded fearfully. "Doctor, wait!" She called, but he was already down.

The two girls scrambled to the door and peered into the darkness. A light suddenly flickered and came on.

"Working light down here, how convenient," The Doctor's cheery voice drifted up to them. Clara's hands balled into fists in anticipation. The Doctor paused. "There's nothing here, Clara."

Clara felt her eyebrows draw together in confusion. She bit her lip fearfully and began to walk down the steps, Martha following close behind.

The Doctor was pacing the room, looking into every corner, scanning things every now and then with his sonic screwdriver. He had an expression of frustration on his face.

"Clara.." He began. "I can't believe I'm saying this but... There really is nothing here."

Clara looked around and knew he was right. There was nothing there, the room was devoid of life except for them three.

She was beginning to feel like she was going crazy. She shook her head in annoyance and retreated back up the steps, not wanting to be near the basement anymore.

She heard the Doctor calling her back but she ignored him, continuing to the living room and sitting down in one of the plush armchairs. She _knew_ she ahd seen something. She knew that _thing_ whatever it was had tried to attack her. And she knew that someone had saved her..

So why was there nothing to show for it? She felt like she was going mad.

"Dammit," She muttered to herself, her frustration taking over her earlier fear. Something strange was going on in this house and she was going to figure out what it was.

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**Second chapter done! Not sure if anyone's reading this but I'm going to write it anyway, takes my mind off other stuff. Please review, it'd mean a lot to me!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three is uppp! Thank you so much for the review Nikki Pond, it's good to know someone's enjoying the story and wants me to continue. Keep reviewing, it makes my day!**

Clara was tempted to accompany the Doctor and Martha to Torchwood to check up on the Tardis just to get away from the house for a while and the dark, self doubtful thoughts that came with it. However, she decided to persevere and stay where she was. Her curiousity about this place had increased tenfold since the incident in the basemenrt the previous day and even though she had been terrified, she knew there had to be some sort of explanation. There always was. Even if the Doctor couldn't find anything alien-related around this house, she knew there had to be something.

She could tell the Time Lord was slightly doubtful about her story which she had told him in detail. She knew he needed evidence, he always had some sort of evidence to go on.

"You do believe me, don't you, Doctor?" She had urged the previous day after they all settled down in the living room to analyse what ahd happened. Clara was still shaken.

The Doctor had paused thoughtfully. "I believe you saw something, but-"

"Or thought you saw something," Martha had intervened, much to Clara's annoyance.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked coldly, fixing her with a stare. She wasn't sure if they were going to get on. Why did Jack insist on her staying here with them anyway? Sure, the Doctor was unreliable, had no sense, always found a way to get into trouble... But they could manage completely fine on their own.

"What I mean is, it was dark, you hadn't slept in God knows how long and you were alone in the basement of an unfamiliar house, commonly called the "_Murder House"_. Of course your imagination was going to run wild!"

Clara stood up in aggitation. "I know what I saw," She hissed in a tone which was quite unlike her usual calm, reasonable facade. "There was something down there, I don't care if it looks like there wasn't, I don't care! There was something down there and I'm going to find out what."

She sat down at the kitchen table with a mug of tea warming her cold hands, feeling slightly guilty at the memory of how she had stalked out of the room in a huff after the confrontation. She had apologised after, of course, but she knew she wasn't crazy. Travelling in the Tardis had taught her that. Just because the other two felt the need to blame everything on aliens didn't mean she hadn't seen something down there in the basement.

"Is everything alright, Miss Oswald?"

Clara started at Moira's voice as the elderly maid entered the room quietly with steps as gentle and soft as a ghost. Clara smiled.

"Oi, none of this '_Miss Oswald'_," She grinned. "Call me Clara."

Moira smiled with gratitude as she began to wash the few dishes that remained in the sink. Clara felt slightly guilty watching her.

"You don't have to do that, you know," She said, feeling as if she should be doing the chores around the huge old house, not leaving them to an elderly lady. "I know you're supposed to be a maid for this place but-"

"I find my solitude in coming and working here, Clara," Moira explained, not turning around from her work. "I have done so for years, it's what I do."

Clara nodded silently, accepting that fact and stared at her forgotten tea, now gone cold. She sighed, unable to tear her thoughts away from the basement and what might be down there right now.

"Is there someone on your mind, Miss Oswald?"

Clara let the 'Miss Oswald' slide for the moment and sighed again.

"Not really," She explained sheepishly. "Moira, do any... Strange things happen in this house often?"

Moira stiffened slightly and paused. "This house has had a troubled past. I don't doubt that you've heard many rumours about it, but I can assure you that's all they are. Rumours. The mind plays tricks on us all sopmetimes, Clara, especially those who tend to allow stories to fuel their overly active imaginations."

Clara frowned. Maybe she had an active imagination but she couldn't have just imagined those things. She stood up from the table.

"Thank you, Moira," She forced a smile onto her face and left the room, proceeding to climb the stairs and find solitude in her bedroom. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and losing herself in her thoughts. She would not allow herself to doubt her own senses, no matter what anyone said. She was going to have another talk with the Doctor about the situation, explain to him that there was something wrong, they'd find out what was going on. Of course they would. She started at the sound of someone's heavy footsteps downstairs, jerking away from the verge of sleep. Moira was lightfooted, careful. Clara sat up, confusion filling her at the sounds of someone moving about downstairs. She got up and slowly made her way to the door, opening it and peeking out. She couldn't see anyone, so she decided to make her way downstairs, doing so gradually as she looked around. She reached the bottom step and gasped.

Standing before her, seemingly oblivious to her sudden presence was a man unfamiliar to her. He was examining the shelves that lined one of the walls with a look of disgust on his face. Clara let out a small squeak of surprise. The man jumped, startled and looked up at her, confusion shrouding his features. He was quite young, looked to be in his thirties and was wearing a suit that seemed too old fashioned to be from this era. His dark brown hair was a slight contrast to his smooth, pale complexion. Clara was sure she had never seen him before.

"What are you doing here?" Clara squealed in a panic, finding her voice. The man didn't seem about to do any harm to her, but she didn't trust him yet. He looked just as confused as she felt.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He responded to her question with one of his own. Clara frowned in confusion. His voice sounded familiar.

"This is my house!" She struggled to keep her panicked voice down from a shout.

"_Your _house?" The man scoffed. He paused and realisation seemed to hit him. "Oh," He muttered, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Right. That would explain that."

"What would explain _what?_" Clara yelped. "What are you doing here!"

The man ignored her questioned and turned his gaze back to the shelf.

"What is_ this?_" He questioned, disgust lacing his tone as he gestured to a vase sitting on the polished surface.

"I don't know, it must have been left here by the last owners, I- Oi!" She let out an indignant yell as the man nonchalantly pushed the vase off the shelf with a sweep of his hand and sent it clattering to the floor, shattering into small pieces.

"What are you doing?" Clara shouted. "What did you do that for!"

"I didn't like it."

"What the bloody he-"

"You might want to get someone to clean that up," The man stated bluntly, interrupting her and turning away as he stalked towards the kitchen.

"Oi!" Clara yelled again, stepping carefully over the broken pieces of vase and catching up with him. She reached out to grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He froze at her touch and pulled away angrily. Clara was startled.

"Who are you?" She demanded quietly, letting her arm drop back to her side.

The man paused and fixed her with a cold glare. His voice had a smooth tone and a slightly old fashioned air to it when he spoke. "A name for a name."

Clara sighed. "Clara, Clara Oswald. Now tell me who you are and what you're doing in my house!"

The man paused, considering. "Charles Montgomery," He relented and turned away to study the microwave, leaving no explanation as to why he was in her house. Clara frowned. The name sounded familiar aswell.

"No," Charles muttered angrily as he glared at the microwave. "This _contraption _is going to have to go."

Clara held her hands up to her head in frustration and confusion. Who was this man? She tried to place the name but her brain was too frazzled to think straight.

She moved to stand in front of Charles who was making his way across the room again, stopping him in his tracks. "Look, Charles, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you can't just break into my house and smash things and not give me an explanation!"

"Who said anything about breaking into your house?" Charles questioned, his expression blank. Clara frowned. His voice sounded so familiar. It sounded just like..

"No..." Clara muttered. "You... Hang on a second!"

She kept her gaze fixed on Charles who was started to look uncomfortable, feeling as though if she looked away he would disappear.

"I know your voice!" Clara exclaimed. It was the voice of the man who had saved her from the creature in the basement, she was sure of it. Charles' eyes widened slightly at her claim.

"What... What the bloody hell is going on!" Clara cried.

"Hello?" A cheery voice wafted in from the other side of the kitchen behind Clara. She whipped around to see the new arrival, fear flooding through her. She couldn't deal with all these intruders on her own. She should have just gone to Torchwood with the Doctor. An elderly woman with short, blond curls psuhed through the already ajar kitchen side door and welcomed herself into the house. Clara gaped. Then she felt something click in her brain. _Montgomery._ Marcy had mentioned a Dr. Montgomery being the first owner of this house.

"Montgomery!" She yelled suddenly, spinning around to face the man. He was gone. She huffed indignantly. "Oh no you don't, not this time, Charles!" She yelled and stalked through to the hall, leaving the unfamiliar woman behind in her kitchen.

Chalres was no where to be seen. "Bloody hell!" She cried. She felt hopelessly confused. Could this man be a descendant of the original owner of this house? He must be, she reckoned as she peered around the hall again, just in case. She should have known he'd disappear again. She sighed in annoyance.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

Clara jumped at the Southern drawl of the woman standing casually in the doorway of the kitchen. Clara felt her face redden with embarrassment. She must have looked mad.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She apologised, rushing back into the kitchen and taking deep breaths to calm herself. "It's been a hectic day," She smiled apologetically. "Would you like some tea?" She felt obliged to offer as she made her way over to the cupboard to retrieve some cups. She hoped that this woman wouldn't start breaking things and insulting her microwave.

"Oh no, Moira will do that, won't you Moira?" The woman gave a wide smile as the maid entered the room silently and gave a solemn nod. Clara felt bad about her having to make the tea for them but she was stressed and a good hot drink was something she needed right now.

"Sit down, sit down," The woman gestured to the chaiirs as she took a seat herself. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

"Well, actually-" Clara began, but the woman was already lighting a cigarette poised between her lips.

She smiled at Clara. "I'm sorry, where are my manners. I'm Constance, I live next door. I wanted to welcome you to the house."

"Clara," Clara responded faintly, all these strange happenings taking a toll on her.

"Are we having a bad day?" Constance raised an eyebrow at her as Moira handed them their tea. Clara took hers gratefully.

"I'm just under a lot of stress right now," Clara muttered. She made to stand up suddenly, a thought coming to her. What if the man was still in the house? "I'm sorry, there was someone here, I don't know why but I swear they were here, I have to-"

"Sit down, dear, sit down!" Constance waved a hand at her. "Don't worry yourself. Moving house is a stressful business, you need to relax."

"But there was-"

"I'm sure there was, dear," Constance smiled. Clara frowned at her patronising tone but sat down again anyway. She was definitly going to have to tell the Doctor about this. Something was going on here and it wasn't right.

Something clicked in Clara's brain as her memory picked up on something. "You said you live next door," She began. "Do you know Tate?"

Constance's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Tate is my son," She explained. "Do you mind me asking how you know him?"

"He was here the day we came to view the house," Clara remembered. "He seemed..." She pasued, not knowing how to describe the teenage boy's behavious. "Nice."

"Well that is just lovely," Constance gave a forced smile. She took a last sip of her tea and clattered it back onto the table almost forcefully. "Moira, take this away would you? And empty this ash tray."

She smiled sickeningly at Clara as Moira obediantly did as she was told without question. "Moira and I go way back," She stated in her Southern drawl.

Clara nodded briefly as Constance stood up.

"Here," She reached inside her hand bag and retrieved a small package, handing it to Clara. "A hosewarming present."

"What is it?" Clara questioned curiously, taking the parcel from her and examining it.

"It's sage," The woman explained with another smile. "Cleanses the spirits in the house. Why, I gave the same thing to sweet Mrs. Harmon when she first moved in. I knew the family well, they were so lovely. Such a shame what happened to them," She trailed off, shaking her head regretfully. "Well, I should be off. I'm sure you have a lot to be doing and I'm busy with the new baby."

"Baby?" Clara asked, startled.

Constance laughed, a shrill ringing sound that bounced off the old walls. "No, not mine, dear! I adopted him. Little Michael, he's the son of distant relatives who were killed tragically. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Oh.." Clara trailed off quietly, not quite sure what to say. "Well, it was lovely meeting you."

"You too, Clara," Constance smiled again and left the house.

Clara breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table.

"Moira?" She asked as she opened the package to reveal what looked to be an incense stick. "Were the Harmon's the only family that died here?"

"Oh no," Moira stated lightly, causing Clara's blood to run cold and a chill to course through her. "Nearly every family that's arrived here has either died or left. But don't let that worry you, Clara."

Clara nodded slowly. "I think I'd like to find out more about the history of this house."

**Chapter threee! Review to let me know what you think, it makes my day :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope people are reading this and enjoying it, review to let me know if I should continue. Thanks!**

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Clara was curled up in one of the plush armchairs reading a book when the Doctor and Martha returned from Torchwood HQ. She perked up at their noisy entrance, offering the Doctor a warm smile, relieved that they were back. Even with Moira in the house with her most of the time, she still didn't feel truly safe unless the Doctor was with her. As irresponsible as he could be, she trusted her eccentric best friend with her life.

"Hey, Doc," She grinned as he bounded into the room and threw himself down onto the couch, his long, lanky legs draping over the arm rest leaving his feet dangling off the end. "Anything new?"

"I had a look at the Tardis," The Doctor mused thoughtfully. "And then I had a look at that metal block that Jack was so worried about. To be quite honest I can see why he was concerned."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows drawing together. "The Tardis and that metal object share the same energy patterns. I tried to trace it but it pushed me back. Quite forcefully aswell. Nearly broke my sonic screwdriver."

"And your back," Martha smirked. She turned to Clara. "He was thrown across the room when he went prodding and poking at it. It's like nothing we've ever seen before."

"Yes, _but_ it's linked to _this_ location!" The Doctor exclaimed, getting up again, his enthusiasm returning. "That's why I thought this house might have something to do with it, since there were so many odd rumours about the place. But I can't detect anything at all!"

He began pacing the room aggitatedly.

"Constance from next door called," Clara began casually. "She gave me sage to cleanse the house of bad spirits. I don't suppose that's anything to do with the Tardis and this energy thing?" She spoke the last line somewhat sarcastically.

The Doctor snorted. "This has nothing to do with _ghosts._ Ghosts do not exist. There is a completely logical explanation to everything. I just don't know what it is yet."

"Doctor," Clara began. "I don't know. There was a man in the house while you were gone. I _wasn't_ imagining it, I spoke to him, but I'm getting worried, Doctor, I don't know how he got it, what if-"

She was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. She raised her eyebrows. The Doctor showed no sign of moving. He seemed puzzled by her story but not too concerned. He was used to strange things.

"I'll get it, I guess," She offered with a sigh, heaving herself up from the armchair and making her way out to the hall. The doorbell buzzed again impatiently. Clara grumbled to herself as she went to open the door.

"Tate," She exclaimed with a warm smile as she was met with the sight of the blond teenager. "Hey, come in."

"No, I'm not coming in," Tate stated bluntly as she went to move to allow him entrance. "My mom was worried about you. Said you were pretty stressed out earlier. She told me to give you this."

He handed her a plate covered in tinfoil. Clara took it with a smile and peeked under the wrapping. Three chocolate buns sat underneath.

"Thanks," she smiled. "That's sweet of her. I-"

"Is that Doctor guy here?" Tate interrupted before she could finish her sentence.

"I... Yeah, he's here," Clara frowned. "Why?"

Tate stood expressionless. "You should really get out you know," He continued, leaving her question unanswered. "No one stays here long."

"Well, we're staying here," Clara objected firmly. "What's so bad about this place?"

"The rumours of this place being haunted don't scare you?" Tate asked with a smirk. Clara could tell he was messing with her from the mischievius glint in his eyes.

"No, they don't," She smirked back. "Look, tell Constance thank you for the-"

She trailed off at Tate's suddenly worried expression as he gazed at something over her shoulder. She looked around to find the Doctor had left the living room and moved to stand behind her to see who was at the door.

Clara smiled. "Tate, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is Tate from next door."

"Hello, Tate," The Doctor grinned. "New neighbours, I love it."

Tate's slightly fearful expression was replaced with a blank mask once again. He took a step back. "Like I said, you should leave."

Clara frowned at his retreating form before closing the door and turning back to the Doctor.

"What was all that about?" The Time Lord asked curiously.

"I don't know," Clara mumbled. "He seems like a sweet kid but he's a bit... Odd."

She passed through the hall to the kitchen and placed the cupcakes on the counter. It was nice of Constance to send them round, but she didn't really feel like eating right now. She made her way upstairs, passing the Doctor and Martha who were still seated in the living room, discussing the goings on in Torchwood. Clara sighed. She had her own goings on to figure out.

She went straight to her bedroom, planning to retrieve her laptop and research everything she could about the house's history. She gave an indignant hum when she couldn't find the device anywhere in her room.

"Jack must've put it in one of the other rooms," She muttered to herself as she exited the room and went to explore the top floor of the house. She peered into a couple of bedrooms but they were mostly empty. She approached another door that led to what she liked to call the library of the house. It was fast becoming one of her favourite rooms already. Bookshelves lined one of the walls from floor to ceiling and they were stuffed with musty books that had been left by previous owners. A long table and a few chairs also resided there. She guess it must have been used as a sort of dining room or something or the sort, although she thought it unusual for a dining room to be upstairs. She turned the handle and pushed open the door, slipping inside the room. She let out a gasp as she realised she wasn't alone.

Charles Montgomery was slumped in a chair, sitting hunched over at the lenghtly table. He looked drowsy and his breathing was slightly laboured. Clara began to feel somewhat concerned for him, even though what she should have been concerned about was the fact that he had just appeared in her house again without warning. Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

"You!" She yelped, causing the man to jump and look up at her with glazed eyes. He looked tired, no he looked dazed. She considered calling the Doctor but decided against it for now. She could handle this. She was used to strange things happening. If this man tried to hurt her, she knew the Doctor was only downstairs and that was enough to give her some form of courage.

"What are you doing here?" She questioned, determined to get an answer from him this time.

"Nice to see you too," Charles gave a small dazed smile, looking not quite with it as he focused on her blearily. Clara frowned in confusion.

"I really don't know what's going on," She sighed, daring to move closer.

Charles laughed lightly, a slightly manic sound. "It's best you don't."

"What are you talking about!" Clara tried not to let her fristration get the better of her. "Who are you, really? And I don't just mean your name."

"You need to leave this house," Charles almost growled, causing a chill to run through Clara.

"Why..." Clara trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Charles ignored her as he reached across the table and picked up what looked to be an inhalation mask and held it to his face, breathing in deeply.

"Oi!" Clara yelled, running over and prying the mask away from his loose grasp. Charles gave a choked cough. "Are you doing drugs in my house?!"

"Give that back," Charles growled, reaching for the mask but she held it out of his reach. He heaved another cough.

"Can't you see this stuff is making you ill?" She asked, concerned. "Keep taking this and it will end up killing you!"

The man laughed harshly. "It's a bit too late for that."

Clara felt confusion flood her. "What do you mean?"

Charles took his chance to snatch the drugs back from her. "You need to leave this house," He urged again. "You and those others that are staying here."

He stood up, towering over Clara and looking into her eyes. "You need to leave."

Clara swallowed nervously. "A random man shows up at my house and asks me to leave and I'm just supposed to accept that?"

"Yes."

"No!" Clara protested. "Look, if you're trying to scare me out for some reason, trust me, it won't work. I've seen a lot of strange things that you wouldn't believe if I told you, there's not many things that make me feel fear anymore. I don't get scared easily."

Charles smirked, mischief playing around his eyes, still glazed over from the effects of the drug. "You seemed quite fearful when Thaddeus introduced himself to you."

Clara gasped. "It _was_ you!" She exclaimed. "In the basement that day, you saved me from that... Thing-"

"Don't call him a _thing_," Charles hissed defensively.

"Sorry," Clara mumbled quickly, not sure why she felt the need to apologise so rapidly.

"Clara Oswald," Charles fixed her with a piercing stare, trapping her with his deep brown eyes. "Get out of this house now, while you still can."

Clara's heart hammered in her chest at the intensity of his gaze. He moved past her and began to walk towards the door.

"I'm not leaving this house without an explanation," She stated, turning around to face his back and folding her arms over her chest. "If you won't tell me, I'll find out for myself."

Charles laughed quietly and threw her a quick glance over his shoulder.

"I don't think you'll like what you find."

He left the room quietly, closing the door behind him, leaving Clara feeling more confused than ever.

She felt frustrated. She paced the room, sat down and stared out of the window, even tried to read a book to calm herself down but she couldn't stop thinking about Charles and his almost threatening words. Why did she somehow feel that he wouldn't hurt her? She felt as if she was in danger here, but at the same time she felt that she could trust Charles. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She wanted to talk to him again, find out more about him and the house. She sighed heavily. She didn't want to talk to the Doctor about this, not yet. She wanted to find out something for herself first.

She searched the room quickly, moving boxes and stray pieces of papers and furniture until she found her laptop. How ironic that it would be in this room. She took it back to her own bedroom and sat on her bed, folding her legs underneath her and turning on the laptop.

Her heart rate began to accelerate as she typed the words into the search engine. _**LA Murder House.**_

She scanned down the page at the results that came up. One of the first ones caught her eye, titled '_The Eternal Darkness Tour: The Murder House.'_

She clicked on it with shaking fingers as it opened up a new page filled with early information about the house. She scrolled to the earliest date and began to read.

_The Murder House was built in 1922 by Dr. Charles Montgomery, surgeon to the stars..._

Clara heart skipped at the mention of Dr. Charles Montgomery... The man and this doctor shared the exact same name. Was the Charles she knew a great great grandson or something? She continued reading, her heart hammering in her chest as she became more and more horrified by what she read as she went on.

_Dr. Montgomery became addicted to the drug "Ether"... Developed a terrifying Frankenstein complex... With no money to pay the bills, Nora Montgomery organised illeagal abortions in the basement of the house... Charles and Nora's son Thaddeus was stolen and returned dismembered..._

Clara felt her stomach begin to churn. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep herself together as she forced herself to keep reading.

_Dr. Montgomery's grief-stricken attempt to bring his son back to life, creating an inhuman monster... Charles was shot and murdered by his wife Nora who then committed suicide..._

Clara's heart felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest it was beating so hard. She scrolled down a bit more. Under the paragraph of writing was a picture, a copy of an old photograph labelled _**"The Montgomery Family, Charles, Nora and Thaddeus."**_

Clara clamped a hand over her mouth again to stifle her horrified scream as she looked at the picture. The Charles Montgomery here was exactly identicle to the Charles Montgomery she kept meeting. The Charles Montgomery she had spoken with just that day. They weren't just identicle, she realised as she studied the aged picture more closely, trailing a finger gently over the screen as tears began to prick her eyes.

_He was the same person._

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**Hope you liked that one! hopefully I'll continue with this story, if people like it. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEWWW to let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is chapter five noww, not sure if I'll continue with this story because no one seems to be reading it and I don't want to continue with a story that's no good haha :) But I'll write a few more chapters anyway I suppose :) Review if you wanna :)**

Clara stuffed her fist into her mouth to stifle the horrified cry that threatened to escape her lips. Tears began to prick her eyes. She wasn't crazy, she wasn't crazy, she _wasn't crazy._

She couldn't offer any explanation to this. This wasn't like anything she had encountered before... It was almost as if the house wanted her to feel like she was going insane. She closed her laptop forcefully and jumped up from her bed, running to the door and flinging it open, not wanting to be alone in her room any longer. She desperately wanted to handle the situation calmly, but she couldn't.

"Doctor!" She yelled, running down the stair case, narrowly avoiding tripping over her own feet in her hurry. She realised ironically there were two doctor's she needed to talk to right now.

"Doctor!" She called again, her breath coming in quick gasps as she struggled not to panic. _Don't you dare have a panic attack._ She could remember Charles' voice that day in the basement as it rang in her ears now.

She burst into the kitchen. "Doc- Moira, where's the Doctor?!"

The maid looked up from where she was dusting the cupboards, a slightly startled expression on her kind face. "Your friends have gone out Madam, they received an urgent call and had to leave right away. Is something the matter?"

Clara wanted to scream at the maid's calmness. Annoyance registered in some part of her at the fact that the Doctor and Martha had just left without consulting her. Did they really think so little of her? Sure, she didn't know much about Torchwood, but did they think she'd just get in the way? Wasn't good enough? She huffed angrily. She had more important things to think about than jealousy.

"Moira," She began, trying and failing to keep her voice from shaking. "I don't think you told me everything there is to know about this house."

Moira looked at her blankly out of her one good eye. "I'm sorry, Madam. I don't think I understand."

"I think you know full well what I mean. _I'm_ that one that doesn't understand!" Clara took a deep breath and held her hands to her head in an attempt to calm herself. "Dr. Charles Montgomery was here in this house. The same Dr. Charles Montgomery that built this place, _in 1922._" Clara held up a hand to stop Moira as she opened her mouth to speak. "Do _not_ tell me I'm crazy! I know it was him, I saw him, I talked to him..."

"Madam, you are stressed about the move-"

"No!" Clara yelled, cutting off the maid's suddenly fearful voice. "He was here, Moira! He was here and he didn't look one bit different from how he looked in 1922!"

She took a shuddering breath. "Moira, I think you need to tell me what's going on."

Moira pause, considering, a worried look on her face. "Miss Oswald, I-"

"The truth, Moira. Please."

"Very well," Moira began with a blank expression. "Though I'm not sure you'll like what you hear. This house is not a safe place for you to be, Madam. You should leave while you still have the chance."

"That's what he said," Clara choked out. "Why? What's going on?"

"I won't pretend as if I haven't noticed that you and your Doctor friend are very different from most people who come to visit this house," Moira began. "Your friend especially, by no means tries to hide the fact that he is doing something to the house with that device of his. He came here with a purpose, I've seen him scanning various objects in the house."

"Oh," Clara began, startled. "No that- That's just-"

"Others have noticed it too," Moira cut in coldly. "Others who will do anything to protect this house. Many of us have been here for so long that this is the only life we can truly remember. When there is a threat, we cannot be expected to sit back and watch."

Clara shook her head. Nothing the maid was saying was making sense. What others?

"I- I don't understand," Clara choked out.

"You will soon," Moira stated gravely. "Unless you leave now. Otherwise, it will be too late."

The maid's expression turned kind and earnest. "Clara," She used the girl's first name. "I promise you I am no threat to you. But there are others who may want to harm you. Please, for your own good, leave this place before it's too late."

Clara backed away slowly, a chill running through her. Harm her? Others? She felt hopelessly confused. Why did the Doctor have to leave just when she needed him most? She needed to talk to him. She swallowed nervously, suddenly realising that there was another doctor that she needed to talk to.

"Charles!" She yelled, turning and running from the kitchen, leaving Moira behind her. "Charles!"

She stopped in the hall and spun around in a full circle, searching for the man. "Dr. Montgomery," Her voice cracked. "I need to talk to you."

"How much do you know?"

Clara's breath caught in her throat at the familiar voice, spinning around to meet him.

"Enough," She attempted to make her voice strong.

"Then if you have any sense," Charles hissed threateningly, taking a step closer intimidatingly. "You'll leave this God-Forsaken place."

Clara gulped but took a step towards him, refusing to be intimidated. "What happens if I don't?"

"What happened to all of us," The doctor stated grimly. "Please, just do as I say and get out of this house."

Clara shook her head reaching a hand towards him and tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "Charles, you... You died almost a hundred years ago."

Dr. Montgomery took a step back, out of her reach, his eyes flashing with hurt and anger.

Clara let her arm drop back to her side. "How can that be?" She asked quietly.

"It's not safe here," Charles whispered harshly, ignoring her question.

Clara blinked and the doctor was gone. She blinked again with a gasp, looking around her.

"Charles," She whispered quietly. She needed to talk to him. She felt that he wouldn't hurt her. She ran upstairs, wondering where he could be. He didn't seem to want to discuss things with her, neither did Moira, but Clara needed answers. She needed to know who Charles was. Was it possible that he was a ghost? Clara shook her head to rid herself of the thought. He couldn't be... Ghosts didn't exist. Clara let out a light sob of desperation in her search.

She considered trying the basement, the place where she had first met him. Her body stiffened with fear at the memory of the last time she had been down there. What if Charles wasn't there and that creature attacked her again? She stopped in the middle of the landing, defeat washing over her. All she wanted to do was curl up on the floor and cry. The confusion haunted her.

Something on the high ceiling caught her eye monemtarily as she glanced up. It was a door.

"The attic," She murmured. She hadn't been up there since they had moved into the house, she had never even noticed the entrance. She reached for the hooked pole leaning against the wall nearby and used it to pull down the door, revealing a drop down ladder which she caught a hold of and dragged down to her level.

Her heart rate accelerated as she ascended the steps, not quite sure why she was even going up there. She reached the attic floor and heaved herself up, quickly locating the light and flicking it on. A dim glow illuminated the room, brighter than the light that had been in the basement but not giving off a strong glow.

She stood up and looked around. There was all sorts of things there, musty old boxes stacked on top of each other in one corner and what looked to be a bed along the wall at one side of the small room. She shuddered. She didn't know why she had bothered coming up here. There was nothing here that would give her answers.

She turned to go but froze to the spot as a small, red ball rolled gently across the floor towards her. Clara's breath hitched as she stared at the object. She looked around the room again, seeing nothing. She bent down to pick up the ball curiously. No sooner had she picked it up did a person leap up out of the gloom towards her. The figure looked human but it's face was hugely disfigured and it moved on all fours. It bounded towards her shouting something she didn't understand in her panic stricken mind.

Clara let the ball go with a startled shriek, attempting to run away but she hit something solid. Panic threatened to engulf her before strong arms encircled her waist, one hand reaching up to cover her mouth, stifling her scream. Her eyes widened in horror until she realised who it was.

"Shh," Charles hushed her urgently. "Beauregard stop it, you're scaring her!"

He let his hand fall from Clara's mouth, satisfied that she had stopped screaming. Clara clung to him, her breathing ragged. Beauregard gave an indigant hum.

"Play!" He demanded, beginning to come closer.

"Not today, Beau," Charles grumbled, kicking the red ball back towards the boy with his foot. Beauregard took the ball and reluctantly retreated into the shadows in the corner of the room, giving a low whine and muttering to himself.

Charles' arms were still wrapped around Clara protectively and she continued to cling to him, a startled sob escaping her. This place had to be haunted, she realised with grim defeat.

"It's ok," Charles murmured. "He can't hurt you."

"Who is he?" Clara whispered fearfully.

"One of the kindest, most innocent spirits I know," Charles responded, letting go of her, satisfied she had calmed down enough to hold her own weight. Clara released her tight hold on his jacket reluctantly. She felt safe with him. "He's only a boy."

Clara nodded silently as Charles motioned for her to descend down the ladder back to the landing, following closely behind her.

Clara was shaking. She wiped a stray tear from her eye quickly, not wanting Charles to think she was weak. She had handled plently of things before, why couldn't she handle this?

She turned to Charles, cracking a small smile and struggling to keep the tremour out of her voice. "You, Mister, have a _lot_ of explaining to do."

She turned and walked down the stairs, peeking over her shoulder at Charles quickly to make sure he hadn't disappeared. He followed her down the staircase to the living room. It was the room that Clara felt most comfortable in. She sat down in one of the armchairs, hoping Charles wouldn't break anymore vases. She quite liked the ornaments that lined the mantlepiece in this room.

He seated himself across from her somewhat reluctantly. For a moment neither of them spoke. Clara wrung her hands, unsure how to begin. She took a deep breath.

"Are you..."

"Yes."

Clara frowned. "You didn't let me finish."

"But I knew what you were going to say," Charles stated, his eyes meeting hers. "Yes, I am dead."

Clara's heart rate quickened. His words made her want to run but his intense gaze trapped her in place.

"Are you scared now?" He asked quietly.

"I... Don't know," Clara answered truthfully. She paused as Charles looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to clarify. "I'm not scared of you." She finished firmly, establishing her point.

Charles let slip a small smile. "And why's that?"

"Because I know you won't hurt me."

"How-"

"Because if you wanted to hurt me, you would've done so already," Clara interrupted before he could finish.

Charles smiled slightly. "You didn't let me finish."

"But I knew what you were going to say," Clara grinned, repeating his words from earlier. Charles gave an amused smile, putting Clara more at ease.

"Are you," Clara began, feeling slightly foolish at the question she was about to ask but she had to be sure. "Are you some sort of a ghost then?"

"I'm not "some sort of a ghost", I am a ghost," Charles replied gruffly. He paused, eyebrows drawing together in thought. "You researched the house, did you?"

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "It's on this Eternal Darkness Tour. It... Gave me all the history. All I needed to know." She began to feel slightly nervous again.

Charles looked up, a wry smirk on his face. "So you know all about me, everything I've done. And you're still not scared?"

Clara paused. "Like I said, I know you won't hurt me. Besides, I'm used to madmen." She cracked a grin.

Charles raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," Clara laughed lightly, surprising herself at how at ease she felt with this ghost.

Charles scoffed. "Clara, I'm dead, yet I'm here talking to you. I don't doubt strange things."

Clara chuckled again. "Right... Well I have this friend, his name is the Doctor-"

"That's not a name," Charles cut in, glaring at her challengingly.

"It's his," Clara responded simply. "He's an alien."

Charles' eyes widened. He laughed suddenly. "And I thought I'd lost my sanity," He scoffed. "You're clearly mad too."

Clara huffed indignantly. "I told you you wouldn't believe me!" She protested. "Well, it's true. He can travel through space and time," She continued impressively, wanting to test him to see if he'd believe her. "I've travelled with him. He's a bit eccentric, but he's taught me to understand things that are... Out of the ordinary." She finished.

"Sounds like a bad novel," Charles scoffed. "How am I supposed to believe that tale?"

"Well, how am I supposed to believe that you're dead when you're sitting right in front of me!" Clara cried, trying to make him understand her point.

"Because the evidence is right in front of you. Your point?"

"My point," She sighed. "Is that no matter how outrageous the truth might sound, sometimes you just have to accept that it's true."

Charles paused in thought. "What does he plan to do to the house?"

"The Doctor?" Clara asked, confused at his sudden question. "Nothing, he just-"

"I've seen him around here with that device of his," Charles growled. "What is it? Why is he waving at around the place like a mad man?"

Clara sighed. "He thought there was extra terrestrial activity going on here," She explained. "He doesn't believe in ghosts, he think there's always a logical explanation. He wanted to check this place out, but he means no harm, I promise."

Charles looked at her as if considering whether to believe her or not. He shook his head lightly in disbelief.

"Look," Clara began earnestly. "You of all people should believe m-"

"Clara!"

Clara jumped at the sound of the Doctor's voice as he bounded into the room. She hadn't heard him come in.

"Who were you talking to?" The Time Lord frowned as he glanced around the room.

"I was talking to," Clara looked up. Charles had vanished. "Myself."

She could swear she heard mischievius laughter echo from somewhere in the room, but she was almost certain that she was the only one who could hear it. She had to bite back a smile. _Well done, Clara,_ she thought. _You've allowed yourself to be made look like an idiot. By a_ _ghost._

The Doctor was giving her a strange look. "Are you feeling alright, Ozzy?"

"Fine, fine," She muttered hurridly. "I didn't hear you come in.." She trailed off, looking from Martha to the Doctor.

"We used the kitchen side door," Martha explained. Clara nodded, a sudden thought coming to her. She hoped Charles was still nearby listening in.

"Any more news on the Tardis? With that _alien_ thing?" She asked casually, putting emphasis on the word alien, taking the chance to prove to Charles that she was in fact telling the truth.

"No, nothing new," The Doctor replied, giving her another strange look. "Jack won't give it up though so it's going to have to stay in Torchwood... Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Never been better," Clara smiled widely, getting up and leaving a bewildered Doctor behind her.

She hadn't realised how late it had got until she reached her bedroom and went to pull the curtains, blocking out the fading light outside.

"Are you going mad or am I?"

Clara jumped at Charles' voice behind her, although she should have known to expect him at this point. She grinned.

"You believe me?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Charles frowned. "What's a Torchwood?"

Clara laughed lightly, making her way over to him from the window. "Sometimes I don't even know, myself."

She had a sudden thought and reached out to take his hand experimentally, an unanswered question on her mind. Charles' hand twitched out of her reach quickly, fear in his eyes.

"It's ok," She whispered. "I just want to test something."

Charles looked puzzled but didn't pull away when Clara took his hand gently and held it in hers, a look of wonder on her face.

"I can touch you," She breathed. "But you're..."

Charles gently removed his hand from her grasp. "There are some things about this house even I don't know," He muttered quietly, not fully answering her unspoken question.

"Please, Clara, you can't stay in this house," He urged again.

Clara shook her head slowly. "I-"

"You have to go."

"But where?" Clara protested. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Anywhere's better than here," Charles muttered bitterly. "Trust me, Miss Oswald. Staying here is never a good thing."

He moved to the closed door, turning the handle and pulling it open quietly. Clara didn't know how to respond.

"Sweet dreams, Clara."

Charles left the room silently, leaving Clara speechless and unsure of what to do. She crawled to her bed, lying down and wrapping the covers around her securely. She wasn't sure if she felt frightened or not. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Everyone was warning her to leave the house, but she had nowhere else to go. She was worn out from the events of the day and it didn't take her long to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

**Hope you liked that one, reviewww to let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, wow I'm so glad some of you are liking this story! A HUGE thanks especially to my reviewers Nikki Pond and Random W, you guys are the best! :) I'll add in a lot more details about the Murder House and the characters so you can understand better what's going on since you don't watch American Horror Story, by the way it's a reaaallly good show you should give it a try;;) It's not too scary at all :) Anyways, thanks, keep reviewing I love seeing what you think of the story!**

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Clara woke up the next morning feeling disheveled and unrested. She held a hand to her messy hair with a yawn, realising she must look an absolute state. She'd had an uneasy night, drifting in and out of sleep as dreams filled with images of the house and the basement plagued her. She couldn't stop thinking about Charles. She shuddered at the memories of what she had found out about his past. She shook her head fiercely, removing the thoughts from her mind. She believed there was good in him, no matter what he had done. She wasn't sure if she should, but she trusted her instincts. _Why am I defending a pyschopath? _She thought to herself with a wry smile. She got up and made her way down to the kitchen groggily, grateful for the cup of tea that was pushed in front of her almost immediately when she sat down at the table.

"Thanks, Moira," She smiled, taking a sip, minding not to burn her tongue in her haste. A cup of tea was a huge comfort in this mad house. She paused for a moment, looking up at the maid and wondering how she should phrase the question that was on her mind. She decided to just voice it.

"Moira," She began, looking at her tea. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"As you wish," Was the polite response as the elderly maid moved to sit down across from her.

"Are you dead?" Clara blurted out unthinkingly. She clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. "Sorry, not like that- Well, yes like that, you're either dead or alive there's no in between but- Urgh, sorry," She stammered, feeling as if she had been rude and was now making things worse. She attempted to smile apologetically. "You know what I mean."

Moira gave a sad smile. "Yes, I am. I was the housekeeper here in the 80's. I continued caring for this house, even in death."

Clara nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. Should she offer her condolences? Was that the right thing to do? She stayed silent, pondering. She wondered if there was anyone else here she knew of that was dead too. It was a frightening thought.

"I can tell you have a kind soul, Clara," Moira stated, surprising Clara slightly. "You are kind and polite, even when the person you are conversing with is deceased."

"Well it's just good manners, isn't it?" Clara grinned.

Moira smiled in return. "I also applaud you on managing to get information out of Dr. Montgomery," She continued, catching Clara's attention. "He usually resides in the basement in the company of ether, unfortunately his drug addiction stayed with him even after death. We all have our ways of coping with this life and the drugs seem to be his relief." Moira frowned slightly. "That's why it's hard to talk to him."

Clara nodded thoughtfully, making a mental note to scold Charles about his recreational drugs use.

"Oh," She exclaimed suddenly, another thought striking her. "When we first met you, our friend Jack was... A little friendly..." She trailed off momentarily with a soft knowing smile. "Somehow I don't think he saw you the same way I'm seeing you now."

"Men see what they expect to see, Madam," Moira smiled wisely. "Women see a person's true soul."

Clara nodded slowly with a small smile. The Doctor bounded into the room, sonic screwdriver in hand, ending the conversation.

"Clara, you're up!" He beamed. "Great, I love it when you're awake. We're going to Torchwood and I expect you're coming with us."

Clara chuckled. "You expect that, do you?"

She got up, taking her now empty cup of tea to the sink and taking the time to wash and dry it herself. She smiled at Moira as she gently put the cup back into the cupboard where it belonged.

"Thanks, Moira," She smiled, leaving the room to pursue the Doctor.

"Come on, Oswald, we haven't got all day!"

Clara perked up with a grin at the familiar Amnerican accent as she rushed to the car waiting outside on the street, jumping into the back seat alongside Martha.

"Hey Jack," She greeted as he pulled away from the drive, glad to see him again. He always made things seem more carefree. She looked to Martha, who was texting rapidly. Clara wondered briefly was that in the job description or was it just as excuse not to talk to her. The Doctor had hogged the front seat and Clara had to admit she was relieved when they arrived at the base, the Time Lord never stopped moaning. If she heard another, _"Jack, what does it matter the colour of the lights? Everyone knows red means go!"_, she would lose her already deteriorating sanity.

As they walked briskly through the halls of Torchwood, she realised that she felt slightly relieved to be away from the house for a while. All this talk of ghosts was beginning to make her head spin and she almost began to doubt if any of the events had happened at all, standing here now under the harsh lights in such a real place. Her memories of recent events seemed so surreal now that she was away from it all.

She decided it was good to clear her head for a while, although she found herself slightly missing the hosue now that she was away. Despite everything, she felt at home there. She also found herself missing Charles, the psychotic ghost who she should really have nothing to do with, but couldn't seem to get out of her mind.

She shook away the thoughts and focused on the room in front of her they had just entered. The Tardis stood in front of her and she almost laughed at herself at the fact that she realised she had missed the ship. The Doctor gave a loud sigh as he stared at his beloved machine. Clara moved beside him and patted him lightly on the shoulder. She hated seeing the Doctor at a loss for what to do.

"Doctor, we still can't identify the energy," Jack grumbled in aggitation. "We've moved the other object beside your Tardis, hoping for, I don't know, anything. But nothing's happened so far."

Clara aproached the metal block they had all been talking about, seeing it for herself for the first time. It was smalled than she had expected, about the size of two shoeboxes put together and it's golden hue looked eerily unwordly.

"That's not from Earth," She muttered quietly to herself, pacing slowly around the block.

"The only change we're getting from this is that it's getting stronger," Jack continued gravely. "Doctor, if we don't figured out how to stop this soon, the Tardis could be ripped apart."

"That is not going to happen," The Doctor stated firmly. He turned to his companion hopefully. "Any input, Clara?"

Clara frowned. "I don't know... Is it supposed to be making that noise?"

Jack's eyes widened as he rushed over, picking up on the sound that Clara had just begun to notice emitting from the metal object. It was a low whine, heightening in pitch, almost too quiet for her to hear. The Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket with a flourish, pointing it at the block with a buzzing sound.

"Whoa," Clara started, backing away slowly as the block began to vibrate lightly. She strained her eyes to look closer. She gasped in shock. "Do you see that?" She whispered to Jack.

"The energy is leaving the block," He murmured in awe. He held up a hand protectively. "Stand back!"

Clara did as she was told, bracing herself in fear of what was to come. They all stared in expectant silence. The atmosphere was unbearably tense to Clara. Nothing was happening.

"No explosions then?" The Doctor stated lightly, almost disappointed. "What a shame."

The miniscule particles of energy were shaking themselves free of the block and gradually moving toweards the Tardis which gave an indignant hum as they flowed inside and were absorbed by the wooden walls.

"What's it doing?" Jack asked with a trace of fear in his voice, moving forward. The Doctor held out a hand to stop him from drawing closer.

"I don't know," The Doctor breathed. "But I'm beginning to suspect that this 'metal block' is actually alive."

A metal block? Alive? Clara almost laughed. She was beginning to believe that nothing would surprise her anymore. All signs of productivity from the block and the ship had ceased, along with the low whining noise. Whatever had happened, it was over.

"Ok, we're going to run some more tests," Jack ordered, pointing to a group of workers who nodded and began to scan both affected objects. The flambouyant American seemed more upbeat now that something different had happened and seemed to be filled with new, raw determination.

"Bye, Doc," He stated cheerily.

"Oi!" The Doctor began indignantly. "I'm a Time Lord." He puffed his chest out proudly. "I deserve respect. You're just going to kick me out?"

"Yep," Jack grinned, spreading his arms wide enthusiastically. "This is my gaff. My place, my rules. Sorry, Doc, you know I love you." He winked at the alien and Clara chuckled, amused at his unfailing ability to flirt with anyone, regardless of their race or gender. "Martha will take you home, you can't even drive your own Tardis, let alone a car."

Clara laughed again, causing the Doctor to give her an annoyed glance. "Come on," She chastisised, rolling her eyes at him, dragging him away from the Tardis and forcing him into the waiting car. "Bye, Jack."

The captain gave her a salute as they drove away. Clara felt accomplished. Martha and the Doctor had left to go to Torchwood without her before, but the one time she went with them, something big happened. She smiled to herself, glad she hadn't missed out on anything.

The journey home seemed marginally shorter than the journey to Torchwood HQ. Clara made her way upstairs as soon as thet arrived, heading for her room. She had sent the Doctor to his room to get some sleep which he did so somewhat reluctantly. She felt partly responsible for the eccentric Time Lord, knowing that he wouldn't sleep for another three days unless someone made him. She knew that Time Lord's didn't need as much sleep as humans but she was positive that the Doctor was well overdue some rest.

She paused as she reached the top of the stairs, looking up to the entrance to the attic on the ceiling. Making a snap decision, she grabbed the pole and retrieved the drop down ladder, making her way up to the room above.

She flicked on the light and looked around. Although she couldn't see anything, she knew better than to believe she was alone.

"Beauregard?" She whispered, crouching down and looking into the dim shadows in the corner of the room by the bed. She remember what Charles had said about the spirit being kind and innocent and she felt compassion for the poor boy. She wasn't sure how he had died, but she felt sorry for what had happened to him.

"Beau?" She tried again after getting no response. "It's ok, I won't hurt you."

She waited expectantly, feeling slightly foolish as if she was talking to herself again, until the small red ball rolled gently along the floor towards her. She smiled, picking it up.

"You wanna play?" She called into the shadows gently. She heard movement in the far corner of the room and as she blinked to make her eyes adjust to the dim light, managed to make out the outline of Beauregard amoungst the gloom.

She rolled the ball back to him gently. Beau gave an appreciative hum, catching the object and rolling it back to her enthusiastically.

Clara laughed and rolled it to him again. "I'm Clara," She introduced herself as the simple game went on. "Do you think we can be friends?"

Beau paused. "Friends," He mumbled happily, passing the ball to her again.

Clara chuckled. Beau seemed to be a kind, gentle spirit. She lost track of time, sitting there, talking to Beauregard as they passed the little red ball back and forth. Clara felt a tear threaten to fall from her eye as she bounced it back to him again. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to die, didn't deserve to suffer.

Beau rolled the ball back with more force than before, catching Clara off guard as it bounced past her. She laughed lightly at the boy's enthusiasm and turned around to search for it. She pushed past the musty cardboard boxes to where the ball had just touched lightly off the wall. As she picked it up, she noticed that the old grey brick it had come into contact with was overly loose. Curious, she reached up and tugged it experimentally. She grinned as the brick came away from the wall. Beau gave an impatient hum from somewhere behind her.

"Just a minute, Beau," She called as she reached into the hole in the wall left by the missing brick, gasping in delight as she found a small wooden box inside. She pulled it out gently and eased off the lid. There were papers and documents inside, yellowed with age. She strained her eyes to see what they read in the dim light, realising that they were from previous owners of the house, going back decades.

"These must've been here for years," She breathed in awe. She stood up, closed the lid of the box carefully so as not to damage what was inside and tucked it under her arm. She picked up the ball, rolling it gently across the floor again back to it's owner.

"I'll come back later, Beau," She promised, descending the steps and sealing the attic door behind her. She hurried to her bedroom, throwing herself down on the bed and opening the box again, emptying the contents onto the quilt.

She felt a rush of excitment course through her. She loved discovering old things like this, she loved the sense of mystery. It was part of the reason she enjoyed living in this house, even though the old place freaked her out at times. She sifted through the papers with caution. She didn't want to rip anything.

Many of the aging papers were unreadable they were so old, but she was able to identify some unsent letters, even bills, and business documents. She smiled as she picked up a small photograph. Two girls in nurses uniform were on it, smiling happily. Clara guessed they must have lived in the house at some point. She wondered briefly what had happened to them as she put the picture back carefully, hoping they hadn't come to a murderous end as so many in this house seemed to have. She sifted through more papers, her breath catching in her throat as she came across another picture, crinkled with curling edge due to age. She smoothed out the edges gently, gazing at the photograph, feeling her eyes well up with tears for some reason. It was the Montgomery's, Nora, Thaddeus and Charles. The woman she identified as Nora was smiling and holding baby Thaddeus protectively, Charles sitting beside them with a light smile on his face. Clara felt her own lips turn up in a smile. Even though she knew Charles and his wife hadn't exactly been together properly due to their hateful relationship, she still thought the picture special. It was Charles when he was alive, and she began to feel emotional. She wanted to share her findings with someone and realised that there was only one person she wanted to talk to right now.

"Charles?" She tried tentatively, still not quite used to the fact that he was a ghost and not sure if he would come just because she asked for him. She smiled slightly. "Come on, don't make me feel like an idiot sitting here talking to myrself."

She sighed. No response. "Dammit, Montgomery," She muttered under her breath, jumping when she heard light laughter from the corner of the room. She looked up at Charles with a pleased grin as he made his way over slowly.

"It's amusing, watching you talk to yourself," He smirked.

"Oi," Clara laughed lightly. She patted the bed next to her. "Look what I found in the attic."

She gestured to the pile of papers and held out the photograph to him. He sat down on the bed beside her, taking the picture from her and frowning at it slightly.

"I can't even remember when this was taken," He murmured quietly. "It was so long ago..."

Clara smiled sadly. "It's a nice photograph."

Charles snorted. "I'm with my wife who I hate and my son who I turned into a monster. How on Earth is that _nice?_" His tone turned bitter. "I was a fool," He muttered. "My life would have gone so differently if I hadn't wasted my time with _her._ I haven't spoken to her in almost a hundred years."

"Well," Clara could tell that Charles' short temper was beginning to rise and tried to make light of the situation. "I guess you could say you're divorced?" She offered a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

This earned her an amused smile from the ghost which made her feel warm inside. "Yes, you could say that."

"I suppose you could say I'm divorced too," Clara continued. "As in, I'm not in a relationship.. I've never been married." She laughed lightly.

Charles raised an eyebrow and laughed. Clara grinned and continued. "I've never really had time for a relationship. I've always been travelling. Even before I met the Doctor I loved to travel," She looked to the window thoughtfully. "LA was actually one of the places I really wanted to visit so I was happy when we ended up here."

"I would have thought America would be less than satisfying after all the planets you claim to have been to," Charles frowned slightly.

"It's still something new," Clara clarified. "You know, Charles, you can be happy. You don't have to live in the past. You can forget about everything that's happened and be happy." Clara wasn't sure how these things worked when you were a ghost, but she was sure that Charles deserved a chance at happiness nonetheless.

"Can I?" Charles asked wryly, looking down at the picture he was still holding loosely in his hands.

"Yes, you can," Clara assured him firmly. "Everyone deserves a chance to be happy."

"Not some people," Charles stated. "Only those who deserve it." He wasn't speaking self pityingly, Clara noticed. He was stating a fact he truly believed and that make Clara's heart ache for some reason she couldn't explain. She didn't want him to suffer.

Charles scowled at the photograph and made to rip it in two in disgust.

"Hey!" Clara gasped, wrenching it out of a surprised Charles' grasp before he could destroy the picture. He blinked at her in confusion. "Don't rip it!"

"Why?" Charles questioned, looking puzzled. "I thought you said to forget about the past. This is me forgetting about the past."

"I like it," Clara tucked the old photograph to her protectively. She wasn't sure why she felt so sentimental about it, but it was Charles when he was alive and untroubled and that meant something to her. She frowned at the man who was still looking at her in bewilderment. "This picture is decades old! Nearly a hundred years. It's you when you were still alive, doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Charles paused in thought. "Not really, no."

Clara sighed at his unwillingness to cooperate. "Well, I'm keeping it," She responded, tucking the photgraph into her pocket carefully so as not to damage it.

Charles raised an eyebrow but said nothing against her pocketing the picture. He peered at some of the papers. Clara smiled, leaning over to look at the rest of the contents of the box with him. She began to lose track of time as they talked quietly. Once again, she was surprised by how at ease she felt with the ghost. He was dead, shouldn't that frighten her?

She filled him in on what had happened at Torchwood earlier that day and he looked at her with bewilderment.

"I haven't the faintest idea what any of that means," He shook his head slowly. "But all I can say is you lead a very strange life, Clara Oswald."

"Hey, I'm not the only one," Clara laughed, shoving his shoulder jokingly. She paused, raising her eyebrow at him questioningly as she realised something.

"What's going on? We've been here talking for ages, and you haven't once nagged me to leave the house yet," She grinned.

"It's still early," Charles responded gruffly causing Clara to chuckle.

"Really though, why is it so important that I leave?" Clara asked, looking down at her hands. "I don't want to go."

"This house is cursed," Charles grumbled spitefully. "You stay here too long and you'll more than likely end up dead."

Clara felt a chill run through her at the bluntness of his statement, but chose not to feel afraid.

"All my life I've been running," She looked at him, willing him with her eyes to understand. "I can't run forever. I don't want to be chased out of this place, I'm not weak."

Charles sighed. "I'm not saying you are."

Clara considered. "This place can't be all that bad," She paused. "I trust you."

"How stupid of you."

"Oi!" Clara scoffed indigantly. Charles looked at her blankly. Clara realised he hadn't meant it as an insult, he was merely stating a fact. The realisation frightened her slightly.

The ghost did not respond to her slight outburst and Clara looked back at the contents of the box again, her curiousity spiking as she caught sight of Charles' name on one of the papers. She picked it up gently. It was some sort of official document she realised, turning it over. One sentence in particular caught her eye.

_**Dr. Charles Montogmery, died October 6, 1924.**_

Her fingers froze slightly. They were in October, she had changed the calender on her wall just a few days previously although she wasn't certain what date it was. She glanced at the calender briefly but couldn't make out the date from her position on the bed.

"What is it?" Charles questioned, noticing her sudden change in behaviour.

"Nothing," Clara responded quickly, putting the document back in the pile in an attempt to prevent him from noticing it. She didn't know what it was like to be dead, but she was pretty sure being reminded of your death wasn't something many of the deceased favourited as a hobby. "Um... You wouldn't happen to know what date it is, would you?" She asked casually.

"I'm dead. Time isn't something I care for," Charles stated simply. "Give me that," He growled, reaching for the paper and retrieving it from her grasp. He scanned down through it quickly. Clara watched his expression turn stony as he located the words that had made her freeze. Pain flashed in his eyes momentarily. He sighed and looked at Clara. "It's October, isn't it? You wouldn't have reacted the way you did if it wasn't near this date."

Clara nodded. "I'm not sure what date exactly..." She trailed off, her eyes drifting to the calender on the wall across form them. Charles followed her gaze and rose from the bed, tossing the papers into the box carelessly. He studied the calender quickly. Clara noticed him stiffen and made to get up to go to him but he turned around briskly.

"I'm going to go," He stated, his expression blank.

Clara opened her mouth to speak but she wasn't sure what to say. Chalres left the room quickly, leaving Clara feeling alone. She got up and immediately moved to the calender, scanning down throigh the dates. She sighed sadly.

It was October 3.

* * *

**Longer chapter than usual :) I made up some of the dates because it doesn't clarify in ahs. I'm so glad some of you are reviewing, I really thought I'd get like no reviews on this story haha! Thank you so much, it really puts a smile on my face to get the reviews! :)**


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